Dealt the hand that quickly lost us the game
In the gorge the exile in perfume lost.
Seraphim, the light within me.
Fantasy, and hidden turnstiles.
Help me walk beyond this song.
Close the case and snuff the candles.
Shelter those I love.
Hopefulness encased in longing
I heard in the night
the sound of unbending sleep
Pooled around a stolen meaning
Glimmering above the shoreline
Mirror image of myself
With each day it takes its breath
With form it threatens silence
End of an age
Leaves flowering forth on the branch
Shaken by spring
Smooth against our frozen hands
Full of wine and winding out
Blown from the center of the sun
Home is thrown away in shortened space
Galaxies are moving out across the edge
Piece of rock
evolved, moved while I
watched and learned and followed
speed and voracity
pummeling the mortar
the pent-up things scattered all over the floor
slithering into the stillness
as the coursing blood fires on through hallways
peeling through the morning
into daylight through the evening
struck, passed, welded out of flashing slivers
through the days
slamming into weeks through the turning moon
spilling slivered flashes on the mass
I stopped the standing waves
sounded out a beaming smile
made the matter glow
slid across the hardened prow
careened around the edges
racing through a year
into decades through the pitching generations
no time, no need to grasp or clutch
your screeching signs
The new live EP by Ryan W. Stevenson's project reminded me, that this debut album must have been gone down the wishlist... If instrumental Canterbury stuff is your thing, this should be a no-brainer. Firmly rooted in the past (late 60s, 70s), nevertheless with a fresh sound. Guests incude The Tangent's Andy Tillison and Soft Machine's Theo Travis. Carsten Pieper